


Humany Necessities

by hananiangniang



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attack, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 22:36:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hananiangniang/pseuds/hananiangniang
Summary: You lose your breath, and a beautiful soul helps you recapture it.





	Humany Necessities

**Author's Note:**

> I am not usually a fan of reader insert, but I had a lot of fun writing this, thanks to direct inspiration by knifebean's vent fic, https://knifebean.tumblr.com/post/187992276105/venting
> 
> And special thanks to kirishimaaa for supporting me while editing this.

You crumpled into that familiar ache in your chest. Your heart thudded against the ribs your balled fists forced inward as you tightened into a knot. Vision had already abandoned the eyes that you willed open. When your lip trembled, you bit down, but the taut muscle only shook harder. Your shoulders followed, then your hands, then thighs, no matter how tightly you wound each extremity.

What had been a loud rhythm in your ears turned to an erratic pounding through your skin, squeezing goosebumps and sweat out through your pores. Your lips parted and you heaved before you realized how much noise you'd make. Any attempt at quelling the _dramatics, god, what were you even upset about, absolutely nothing happened,_ just stopped your breath entirely. Anyone who heard your subsequent gasps would have assumed them the cacophony of an outdated horror film playing on tv.

_Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstop_

A wail cracked on its way up your throat. Blood in your ears drowned out the birdsong beyond your four walls.

_what is this what is this what is this **what is this** _

No reason, _no_ reason at all. You'd been staying in Beach City for a while, no big deal. Just waiting for a passing pool driver to accept a request back to your home. And a day to leaving, they bail on you, because they decided that they "didn't like having strangers in their car." If that was the case, why the actual fuck would they join a service to shuttle strangers cross-country?

No, no, it was your own fault for getting stranded with no money. Their comfort was their right, of which you also had none to judge.

Then again you weren't the stupid bitch who agreed to offer rides to desperate people only to bail out immediately before a trip, but _fucking_ okay.

Although, if not for your dumbass mistake, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet such a darling as the one who had reached out when you first found yourself alone and vulnerable.

"Doll?"

Humiliation flared up in your throat, immediately tense and choking. Bile erupted despite your effort. You gagged and groaned in an attempt to clear the acid off your tongue without directly swallowing.

"Izzat you, doll?"

She couldn't worry, not after everything she told you. Which wasn't much, admittedly, because of course she didn't have to. But isolation, replacement? No matter how smoothed-over the details she even sheepishly offered, you knew all you needed. She didn't deserve secondhand distress over your irrational episode.

"Spinel," you coughed out, although it shriveled into a whine at the end. Get it together. Compared to others' pain, yours was trivial. Self-induced. You felt too strongly. It was all in your head, you fucking egomaniac.

But she caught you, coiled into a ball in your chair, knees rattling against the edge of your desk at a rhythm that would certainly bruise. You lifted a shaky palm, immediately realizing that she would take it as a sign to keep away. "I'm alright," you huffed, tongue catching on your teeth. "Everything's alright. I'm being, ridiculous. I just..."

A fresh wave hit, and your face shattered.

She froze in the doorway. "Could I come any closer?"

"No, I just, it's fine, I'm really--" And then you realized the first word out of your mouth was _no_ because you're always so quick to try to diffuse a situation even at the expense of any sense of pacing. Forcing everyone to focus on your stupid shit until someone _else_ finally mustered a natural segue back to reality.

You pulled your fingers into that raised palm and recalled it, and then elected to ground your knuckles into the imitation wood-grain of your desk. "Yes, you can, but you don't have to." When the sentence came out more easily, you thought you were past the worst, but your teeth started clacking the moment your lips closed.

Immediately at your side, Spinel's hand hovered between your face and shoulder. "Could I hold you?"

You grasped at your bangs and crinkled them in your fist. You sniffed hard, hoping that fresh air would blow all the _weakness_ out. "S-sure." You waved a flip hand. You were unbelievable, dragging Spinel into this. It then occurred to you that she'd interpret the hand wave as a brush off, and all you could do was cringe and sputter a half-formed apology.

"There's no need for apologies," she chided, voice like wind through gravel, rough yet gentle. She took the back of your chair and swiveled you to face her, and you hardly gave her the chance to close in before you leapt into her chest, arms wrapping around her back as if to save yourself from drowning. Her own arms slithered over the small of your back, then around your stomach, then coiling twice more until she had you fully soothed and supported. You tried your best not to wail directly into her ear, but despite Spinel essentially binding you to her, you felt at ease enough to let loose.

A hand came up to the dip between your tight shoulder blades. Spinel used a palm to press your chest into hers. Her gem fit perfectly into your bosom. If you weren't a mess, you would have pushed her away and made some lame joke to diffuse the implications of such an intimate gesture (or maybe you were just overthinking basic human kindness, as usual, you desperate loser).

"Shh, shh," she whispered behind your ear. "I've got you. Everything'll be okay with your pal Spinel here." As if responding to your mental admonishment, she planted a chaste kiss on the spot where your jaw met your hairline.

You jerked away slightly, but kept your elbows knotted behind her neck. "It won't be okay," you admit. You'd avoided the subject for long enough. "Because I was gonna go _home_, but my ride _bailed_ on me, and it's _so_ hard to get anyone to drive out to this _nowhere_ town, and I've hardly even got a buck fifty left in my wallet, and I need to _eat,_ I need a place to _sleep,_ I don't know what I'm gonna..."

Spinel recoiled slowly, but when you saw the way her eyes squeezed at the corners, you gulped your tears back down in pure shame. Be strong, for her. Explain clearly so there'd be no confusion.

"You were gonna leave? Just like that?" Despite her tight lips, she never raised her voice.

You grasped at her arms, ashamed of the tremors that traveled from yours to hers. "I was gonna ask, you, uh, you're a Gem, right? Gems don't need too many things, and uh, usually don't have any commitments, so I thought... you could come with me? U-until you want to see your other friends again." Forcing another ball of tears and throat sores back down your esophagus, you removed your hands and held them impotent parallel to your abdomen.

"D'ya really want to bring me home? With me lookin' like this?" Spinel spread her arms weakly, as if indicating something unspectacular.

For a moment you forgot you were crying. "I don't see what's wrong with..." you trailed off into realization. "Are you... trying to politely turn me down?"

Her eyes went wide with alarm, pupils an irradiated magenta. "No! No no no no no," she reiterated, breaking into a smile that tottered between bashful and flattered. "’Course I wanna see how the beautiful people live.”

Despite the palpitations, your smile wavered. Attempts to maintain it only saddled you with an unbecoming grimace. "But who knows how I'm going to get back now. Who even knows what I'm gonna eat for dinner tonight." A slow, critical laugh lilted off your tongue. "I'm a mess, Spinel. I'm always a mess."

She ran her hands down the tresses that hung over your ears, threaded her fingers through those yielding locks, and cupped your face with a firm grip that never pulled greedily forward. "But now you're my mess."

You didn't imagine that your perfectly-timed gulp was all that flattering with her staring directly into your eyes like you were an idol hammered from gold.

"And besides," Spinel said, repositioning herself to sling an arm over your shoulder. "I know just the person who can help with your basic humany necessities."


End file.
